Babylon 5: The Legend of the Rangers
by Grand Admiral Harmon
Summary: One shot. The seventh installment of the Alternative Universe Babylon 5 series. David Martell has spent the last few years running from his past, only to find himself at the wrong end of a disciplinary action. His only hope of remaining in the Anla'Shok Rangers is to lead a successful mission to a neutral world. But a simply supply mission turns out deadlier than he ever expected.


**The Legend of the Rangers**

"Wake up, you sloppy piece of Human dung!" the Minbari spat, his denn'bok swirling around and cracking him across the head.

He spun around in place, the skin cutting as the strong metal weapon cut into the skin. With a very heavy thud he landed on the hard mat, the sting of the fall making his hands ache. He didn't have time to move before the metal rod came striking down, smashing hard into his calf. With a strong twinge it started to spasm and he involuntarily curled into a ball, grunting as he grabbed the muscle as it started to spasm and tried to kneed it better.

He could see the Minbari raising the weapon as he prepared to strike down again.

"Enough!" the Master shouted, raising his gnarled hands. "There is no honor in striking an opponent that has already been defeated."

The Minbari eyed the Master , clearly engaged in an inner debate. Another blow would either knock out the human or would at least knock some sense into him. But the Master stared just as hard, his red eyes making him back off ever so slightly. He reached out a hand which the human boy took and allowed himself to be helped to his feet.

"That is all for today," the Master remarked, turning to the class, "Let us return tomorrow. A good rest is just as important as hard training."

The other being around the room pushed themselves up off the ground and gave small bows to acknowledge and respect his position as Master. The Minbari also bowed, standing up and headed towards the open door of the Japanese shaped dojo. He turned his gaze back to the human, his eyes showing his disdain for his opponent. The human bowed his head, and prepared to head towards the door as well.

"David," the Master said, resting a hand on the bloodied practise denn'boks.

"Yes?" David asked, stopping as his feet touched the edge of the mat.

"You came to us three years ago," the Master said, lighting a candle as another one burned it waxy way out. "You were full of promise. But those days have passed. You no longer have the same fire in which you had before. Even a year before you never would have been outmatched by the likes of Tannier. What has happened to you?"

David knew the Master meant well. As he looked at the old Narn, his spots starting to pass from the stark black to grey that came of old age, he knew the man had seen much. Done much. But, there was nothing this Narn could do for him.

"Time, Master," he responded, bowing and left the room, leaving the Narn to himself.

* * *

Three years. Three years had passed. As David laid in his cot in the Rangers bunk room, the cot raised ever so slightly to avoid tempting death, his mind went back. To those days before joining the Anla'Shok.

_He stood in the main chamber of a White Star, his mother all in black and red pulling back from his grasp. She turned and ran from the room as the ship ruptured from multiple hits. _

_Screams could be heard from crew-members trapped under beams, but he ignored them, running for the escape pods. _

_A female Drazi was trying to board the escape pod. It was the only one, and so taking out a dagger he always carried on his person, stabbed her in the back. There simply wasn't room for two people. _

_His eyes awoke as a sound of something beeping could be heard. It was a White Star, and he felt his escape pod being yanked. _

_The Anla'Shok recruiters stood before him. They were all Minbari as a rule, the Terran Empire preferring the Minbari to the screening of new applicants to the order. He was hearing an aside conversation, the people talking about the battle and how Sheridan and Delenn were both dead. They were asking his name. _

_"David..." he started to say, but catching himself before he said his last name, changed it to the name of the Drazi he had killed on the ship, "Martel. David Martel."_

_"And why are you here, David Martel?"_

_"I wanted to escape from the mundane existence of before and become something new."_

He closed his eyes, the memories of a past life he disavowed painful. He had been born without the knowledge of his father. He had watched the only mother he knew being dragged around, unable to resist. His father had been a mindless beast. And at the last, he had fulfilled the last promise his true mother, his birth mother had bestowed upon him. To kill both father and mother.

He wasn't just a human. He had good and dark in ample abundance. The drive to become the best and erase the ties of the past had gone, replaced with a desire to simply be left alone.

"Hey," he heard his best friend, a dark skinned human named Malcolm Bridges say, "You going to turn your light off or what?"

He looked over, the stubble of a beard accented his friends strong features.

"Sure," David said, reaching up and turning off the light.

* * *

"Are you really sure about this?" Ta'Lon asked, frowning as he looked up at the Entil'zha. "I don't think they're ready."

Sindell was of the Minbari's Religious caste, as signified by the smooth headbone. He was the senior-most of the Anla'Shok High Council and had received this terrible burden and awesome responsibility after the death of Entil'Zha Neroon after his death on Centauri Prime. His round pudgy face did not change the fact that he had seen his fair share of experiences and he _choose_ to look that way.

"You mean _he's_ not ready," the Minbari said, his hands behind him and his blackish blue robes. He looked down at his friend, having been the first to join the Anla'Shok after the Empire had opened up the ranks of the Anla'Shok to include outsiders.

"Yes," Ta'Lon said, pushing himself up from his meditative position, "He no longer trains as if he wants to be here."

Sindell shrugged in human fashion. "He's had a harder life than most," he said, almost as if excusing but almost as explaining, "Harder than most. But the Anla'Shok was never meant to be about one person. We are all together linked. His crew-mates will help him become what needs to be. But I must say, hearing that come from you makes me remember a much younger Narn."

"That Narn was a foolish brash person," Ta'Lon said, smiling at the memory of how his strictly Minbari compatriots had viewed him.

"We all were once," Sindell said, "Have him report to the Council tomorrow."

* * *

David had never stepped foot inside the High Council Chambers here on Minbar. It had taken twenty years, but Minbar was once again flourishing. The attack by the Humans, and the wrath of the Vorlons was long since washed away. The cities were re-sculpted in crystal, in defiance to the laws pertaining to a standard type of buildings. Here on Minbar, traditions never died.

But as he was ushered into the room, that was all forgotten. The room was pitch black, except for a single light that illuminated the center of the room. He hesitated, wondering what would happen to him. There was no explanation as to why. Master Ta'Lon was not given to being very vocal on any subject.

"Step into the light," a voice commanded, to which he obeyed without question.

He had learned the importance of obedience more firmly here than he had learned before hand. The soft but blinding light made him unable to see anything beyond his own circle. He did not know that was the point of the circle of light. To remind those inside of their limited view of the whole picture.

"David Martell," a voice said, and another pillar of light appeared, as a Drazi member of the High Council said, his race only distinguishable by his voice. Even had he not been blinded by the light, it would have been hard to see any face underneath the heavy hood that was fallen over his face. "Are you ready for the next stage of your adventure into the Anla'Shok?"

"Yes," David nodded his head, "I am."

"Then we have a task for you to perform," another voice said, the light pillar of another member turning on, "You will take the ship_ Liandra_ and make a supply run to the Meldoran Colony. They are desperate need of supplies, especially medical ones to fight an outbreak of a virus."

"Yes," David said, smiling widely. "As you wish."

* * *

"Did you really have to agree to this mission?" the short but fiery Sarah Cantrall asked, the console coming apart as she touched it, sliding with an unceremonious thud to the ground.

"Yes, I did," he replied, watching as the crew scrambled about, working on repairing various stations and systems while the ship was loaded with supplies. "You could have stayed at the training facility. Gotten more time in with your denn'bok."

Sarah snorted. "You aren't getting rid of me that easy, fly-boy," she remarked, "Remember who controls your sex life."

"That would be me!" the smiling face of Kitaro Saski exclaimed, popping up from the weapons room. But the withering glare of the young couple froze his smile and he lowered himself back into the weapons room.

Sarah smirked as she left the bridge, holding her nose up in the air. He followed her with his eyes, screwing in a few wires that hung loosely from the ceiling. With a grunt, he popped them all back in place and turned to see Malcolm tapping the final piece into the holographic communications system. David could hear the pak'ma'ra Ranger Mel'orki scrounging about the food storage and shuddered at what he might be doing in there.

"In all seriousness though," Malcolm said, glancing up from his finished work, "What are we doing here? You have nothing to prove."

David motioned him to follow him and Malcolm walked behind him. There was quiet a difference between the two. David always walked with a little bit of a slouch while Malcolm always stood erect. David's feet while they left the floor with each step didn't make any noise when they would touch the floor again. Not even in this dark blue lighten ship. Malcolm on the other hand was always stomping as if he were marching. David had lost much of the fire and confidence that had striven him before. But Malcolm only grew in those same attributes.

As they walked they passed Dulann, a Minbari of the Warrior Caste. He was working on a wall console that would flicker but as soon as he'd try pushing anything, it would go off. He would move his hand and the console would flicker again. Touch, nothing. He finally raised his palm and slapped it against the console, the thing lighting up strongly. He looked with a small smile of triumph.

"Don't destroy my ship first day on the job," David teased him.

The Minbari raised a bald eyebrow. "Minbari don't break things," he remarked, "We simply make sure if it needs fixing or not."

"Ha!" David said, and continuing down the passageway, turned towards the crew quarters, the Healer of the ship, the Minbari Firell exiting, muttering about how the bed were flat and not vertical. In they both went and he closed the doors behind them, closing off the rest of the crew from him and Malcolm.

"I had to take this assignment," he said, glancing back at Malcolm who folded his arms.

"Why?" he asked, "This ship is a piece of garbage. And you've heard the story right? The _Liandra_ has been engaged with the Hand three times, all its crew dying, but the ship somehow surviving. This is a suicide mission, even if it is a supply run."

David rubbed the sides of his head. How was he going to put this.

"I overheard Master Ta'Lon speaking with Satai Heldar a week ago," he said, looking up at Malcolm.

"About what?" his friend pressed.

"My future with the Anla'Shok," the answer came. "They were saying that they are planning on expelling me from the Order."

Malcolm's eyebrows first rose in surprise than hardened in well-meaning anger on his friends behalf. "Why?" he demanded, "You are one of the best!"

"There are many reasons why," David said, leaning against the wall, putting his weight on his forearm, "Not the least being my decline in performance lately."

Malcolm snorted. "So you've hit a slump!" he scoffed, "Big deal."

David shook his head, "You know the rules about inter-Ranger association?" he asked.

"Of course," Malcolm replied, "No sexual intercourse with a fellow Ranger unless..._oh_..." Malcolm's eyes grew wide as realization dawned on him.

"Yeah," David finished, his cheeks flushing a bit.

"I didn't realize you two were getting it on," Malcolm remarked, "I thought she was just talking smack to you."

David pushed himself from there and began to pace the floor. How was he going to tell his friend? Malcolm could sense the hesitation inside him.

"Sarah's..._pregnant?_" Malcolm said and when David couldn't speak, he whistled, "Wow. You are really in a load of crap."

"Yeah..." David muttered, "If I don't go through with this mission, I'll be expelled from the Order. I have no choice in the matter Malcolm."

* * *

The Naming Ceremony had gone smoothly. Just the formal naming of each person and a secret about themselves. Nothing too fancy. With that, the ship slowly began to limp it's way into space, the Ranger Na'Feel having assured they'd get off the ground and going. Na'Feel was one of the few Narn Rangers and she was also one of the bright stars in the area of mechanics and engineering. She had volunteered for this mission so she could stay by Drazi Ranger Tirk, who he could have sowrn they were brother and sister. Certainly they were too defensive and protective of each other to suggest anything further.

David sat in the squeaky Captain's Chair. Perhaps he'd have it looked at. the pak'ma'ra Ranger walked up to him, holding his translator ball before him. It glowed as it prepared to translate his guttural speech.

"Yes, Ranger Mel'orki?" David asked.

"There is a problem with the medical supplies on board," the Ranger spoke.

David shrugged. "Why's that your problem?" he asked, "Firell is in charge of those supplies."

"I already talked to her about it," he shook his massive head, "She said nothing was wrong."

"But you don't agree?" he asked.

"pak'ma'ra know when things of this nature are wrong," he replied, "I am just not sure what it is yet."

"I know Firell from before her time in the Order," David said, "If there is anything wrong with the supplies, she'll catch it."

The pak'ma'ra stared at him with his beady black eyes. Finally he bowed and began to move off. He stopped, blocking the door and Sarah who was trying to get in.

"Unless the supplies are meant to be wrong," Mal'orki said, pushing his way out. As Sarah entered, so did Tirk, the Drazi Ranger. He didn't say much, which was fine by him.

* * *

Despite her very firm and fit body, Sarah could feel the life inside her growing. She wasn't showing yet, but it was only a matter of time.

As she sat at the table of the mess hall, eating Anla'Shok ration-bars that weren't fit to feed to Earth pigs, she thought about the future she had in the Rangers. No matter what happened, this would inevitable by her final mission for the Anla'Shok. Her pregnancy was already known to key members of the Ranger High Council, and while David may or may not be cast out of the order due to his relationship to Sarah, Sarah was beyond a doubt going to be cast out. There was no way around that.

_"Anla'Shok don't have children. It's dangerous enough as a Ranger without having a child to drag you down."_

That was what she had been told. Oh, she understood and even agreed with their reasoning. But it still hurt her to think she was going to be tossed out on her kester. Only thing that made it better was the fact David had been so supportive and protective of her. No, he didn't go out of his way to protect her from the dangers she faced. But he refused to be chased off from her side. Even if she left and he stayed, he'd always support her and love her.

"You alright?" Kitaro asked, coming into the mess hall and tossing a glance at her as he walked up to the cabinet and opened it.

"Of course I am," she said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," Kitaro said, rummaging through the bars, looking for a particular type. "You just nearly bit my head off."

"I didn't," she said, slamming her fist into the table. Only then did she realize just how off the handle she had become. Her mother also had incredibly violent mood swings. She had once punched out Sarah's dad when he told her the store was out of a particular product. She hadn't even been mad when Dad had said it. THe fist had just gone flying. No wonder she was an only child. Dad was afraid of Mom when she was pregnant.

"Sorry," she muttered, embarrassed. "I just don't see why my being a pregnant is a bad thing. As Anla'Shok we are asked to protect life. Respect it. Love it. Cherish it. But when I get pregnant, it's out the airlock."

Kitaro didn't say anything at first. He grabbed a particular variety of the bar and moved around the table to the chair direct opposite of Sarah. He pulled back the chair and sat down, scooting it in. He opened the wrapper slowly.

"As I see it," Kitaro said, taking slow bites out of the food, "The Anla'Shok are meant to be elite. Every member. A baby born to the Anla'Shok has to be elite. It's survival would depend on it. But since babies cannot even so much sneeze without help, they pull the whole order down."

"That's garbage," she muttered.

"I agree," Kitaro replied, "They believe firmly in the idea that the whole is only as strong as the weakest link. Don't get me wrong, I love babies. But they would make lousy Anla'Shok. Imagine a newborn wielding a denn'bok."

Sarah chuckled despite herself at the image of her newborn wielding a denn'bok, twirling it around in it's chubby hands. "I'm sure it would do much better than you do," she remarked, both of them laughing.

"See that?" he said.

"See what?" she asked.

"You're smiling," he smiled his big toothy grin, "Better than that sour-puss you've been the past two days."

She thought about it. Yeah, she was feeling much better.

"Thanks," Sarah said, "I needed it."

"You're welcome."

* * *

"Meldoran Colony is ETA ten minutes," Kitaro reported from his helm station about a day later.

"All crew report to your stations," David ordered over the ships intercom system.

Hyperspace was swirling around them. The ship had held together, by no small part to the angry workings of Na'Feel. The _Liandra_ was putting along just like an old grandpa that was determined to make it. He felt a hand pass over the back of his neck and he reached around and grabbed hold. Tilting his head back he glanced at Sarah, who had entered the bridge behind Ta'feek, the Minbari Political officer. He'd be needed to get any clearance to enter the colony, which wasn't a formal member of the Terran Empire.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked in a lower voice, gazing up at her beautiful eyes.

"Doing my job," she said, also in a low voice.

"I have a job for you after this mission is over if you are interested," he said with a slew smile.

"In your dreams," she said with a smile, tapping his face in a mock slap.

She headed over to entrance of the weapons room and sat on a small bench. Unlike most strictly Minbari ships, this had more than enough chairs to go around. The Imperial Military had ensured the increase of this particular luxury.

"Reaching the exit jumpgate to the colony now sir," Kitaro reported.

"Take us out," he order, and the ship jerked slightly as the vortex of hyperspace opened to normal space.

They slid out, and before them they could see the two planets of the Meldoran Colony. The one closer to the red dwarf star of the system was burnt to a crisp by the looks, while the other seemed half green and half brown.

"What can you tell us about the Meldoran Colony, Ta'feek?" David asked, as they were approaching closer to the planet.

"It's a Class 2 world," he replied, having memorized most of the intel on the planet prior to arriving, "Mostly farms, with a few modest cities of sixty thousand being least but none exceeding a hundred thousand. They really don't have a military, and no religion. They have been contacted by the Hand a couple times, but their seeming insignificance has left them alone."

"The Hand?" David frowned. If the Hand had been here, there was no telling what was going to greet them. "Anything else?"

"Their planet has suffered a food shortage since the Hand first arrived and so has a virus," Ta'feek reported, "But according to the political and diplomatic dispatches to the Emperor Vir Cotto, they've assured us that it's strictly non-lethal and affects only those with silver blood."

"That's good," Firell said, eager to be of help in her Healer capacity. "Perhaps I can be of use to them. Perhaps my advice would be welcome to helping them find a cure."

"But the meds we have here were made by the best minds of the Empire," David reminded her, "If anything, you'll only be there to make sure we get the meds to the right people."

Firell looked disappointed. Oh well, that was life.

* * *

Permission had been readily ascertained and they soon were approaching the landing platform of their single spaceport, Goo-Go-Roo on the eastern continent. As David looked out at the city and saw the hustling and bustling of the metropolis of the city, it was amazing to him. Minbar never was that busy, the losses inflected during the Second Minbari War and the Second Shadow War by no means giving them much opportunity for fast growth.

"Tirk hate big cities," the Drazi mumbled.

"Why?" Mal'orki asked, genuinely interested.

"If cities big," Drazi said. "Tirk not so big. If city small, Tirk bigger than city."

David couldn't tell if Tirk was telling a joke or not. It was hard to tell with Drazi, who were a pretty serious people all around. With a bump that caused everyone to shake, the ship landed. David sent a glance back at Kitaro.

"Sorry," he grimaced.

* * *

A delegate of medical official and civic leaders were awaiting them as the hatch opened to the outside. David was struck immediately by just how...different these people were. Most alien races were very similar. Sure, there was some with scales, others with hard skin. Some with soft skin. Few had antenna. And tons of them to boot.

"Minister Kafta," David addressed the closest man in flowing sparkling black robes.

"Welcome to Meldaron 'olony," the leader said, bowing low to them, his ten odd antenna pressing against his head as this insecticide alien bowed to them, his exo-skeleton arms crackling as he swept them outwards. "You come 'reat distance to 'elp the Unknown in their 'istress."

"The Anla'Shok are more than willing to assist wherever we are needed," David said, pressing his fingers together in a triangle and bowing. "We are eager to help you right away."

"The Healers 'ill direct you 'here you 'eed to be," he said, the sickly white civic leader waiving the Healers, who were all a sickly green color (a caste color?) to step forward.

The process of unloading was not long, especially with the likes of Tirk helping them load their medical transports. They were similar to the ambulances of old Earth, even down to having wheels of black metal. David and the rest made short work of the fifty massive boxes of supplies and equal boxes of medicine.

"The night comes on," the Minister said, "Would you care to spend it 'ere on Meldaron 'olony?"

"Are you sure we will not be infected?" he asked, looking at the sky which was indeed darkening, "I'd rather not risk us getting infected."

"There is no way you can be infected," the head Healer said, her eyes blinking rapidly as she spoke, "Unless your blood is silver, the chances of contamination is nonexistent."

David looked at the people, who were looking very...eager wasn't quiet the word he was looking for. Anxious was more like it. They were very anxious to get indoors. He glanced back at the _Liandra_, and was really hoping to get back to Minbar. The sooner he got back, the sooner his fate could be decided.

"The ship could use some more tuneups before we get back into space," Na'Feel said, stepping close to David, "It'll give me time to fix out any bugs we might have."

He nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, "We'll stay."

"Good, good," the Minister said, "I 'ope you do not 'ind if you spend the night at our Healer's 'acility. We 'urrently are all 'ooked out on all our 'otels."

"I don't mind," he shrugged, he then motioned to Firell, "Firell here would love to lend you a hand in your procedures. Give you some added help."

"Absolutely not!" the head Healer snapped, "That is very secret to us. You cannot help heal us. It is against the law."

David was taken aback by the fervent manner in which this woman exploded angrily. He looked at Sarah, who raised an eyebrow. This was going to be very interesting to say the least. Na'Feel and Tirk graciously bowed out and went back to the _Liandra_, so they could keep working on the ship.

* * *

"I'm not sure I like this so much," Malcolm grunted, sitting in the visitors quarters of the Healer Facility. There were rows of curved benches that swept around the outer edge of the room and rows of chairs that while hard could be adjusted to either lean forward or backwards as much as one wanted.

"It's no worse than the Minbari quote-unquote 'beds'," Mal'orki replied, his massive frame somehow fitting in snugly into the armrests of one of the chair he was adjusting backwards.

Ta'feek grunted from the bench he was curling up on. "You humans and pak'ma'ra know nothing of comfort," he replied, already getting sleepy.

"Ha!" Malcolm retorted, "True comfort is being with a woman."

"I wouldn't mind hooking up with Firell," Kitaro said, fighting with his chair which was refusing to bend backwards, "She's pretty hot. What do you say Firell? Wanna go out with me?"

Firell had been standing by the door, the glass windows allowing her a glimpse into the halls of the facility. She saw mostly Healers moving back and forth, but very few patients. In fact, she had seen only one patient, and that one had been tied down to a hovering bed.

"I wouldn't press your luck," Dulann called out sleepily, "She's a lesbian."

"Really?" Sarah asked, pressed firmly against David on one of the curved benches, which was surprisingly comfortable. "Are you a lesbian Firell?"

"One does not become a Healer if you are straight in Minbari society," she replied, still interested in what lay beyond the closed doors.

"Can it, all of you," David ordered, "We need to get to sleep. I don't intend to stay here past tomorrow."

"Why not?" Kitaro asked.

"Something about this place just doesn't feel right," David replied, "And I'm not sticking around to find out beyond tonight."

* * *

The Healer took the canister of medicine. The Anla'Shok would not know this. Nor would any of the outsiders. The medicine was indeed a cure. One too dreadful to think of.

The Unknown was a dying race. The virus was worse than what they had let on. The virus was indeed lethal and out of an estimated seven million Unknowns, only about three hundred thousand remained.

Meldaron Colony had no wish to join the Terran Empire. They had heard of the evil exploits of John Sheridan before his death and Vir Cotto was by no means an Emperor they felt strong enough to protect them. They had no desire to join the Hand either, who were worse. Their interest was purely selfish, to add to their ranks. So the Unknown had taken matters into their own hands.

She moved to the mortuary of the Healers Facility in the basement. Hundreds of people were stuffed in there. One on top of the other. Dead corpses of a long and bitter battle that was rapidly claiming them all. The only light was from furnaces that the few Servants of the Healers were working to feed the corpses into them. But, once everything was done, there would be no need for Servants. Or Healer for that matter.

Six other healers were also gathered. She looked at the Minister Kafta. Within hours of finishing welcoming their guests to Meldaron, his exoskeleton was already beginning to show signs of stress and tear.

"We must do 'his," he told her, patting her shoulder with his hand, the other one already shriveling and smoking as it began to boil with intense inner heat. He gave no sign of mental distress at his fortune. It just was a fact of life, this disease. "There is no 'ther way."

"I know," she said, and watched as the Minister used his good hand to pull out a small dagger from his robes. He slowly raised it up to where the chin scale meet the neck scale. There was a small fleshy spot there, and he drove the dagger upwards.

* * *

Dulann awoke as if he were slapped, starting as he sprang up. He looked around, his heart racing. He had felt it. A violent end. Here in the facility. Dulann was specifically attuned to the other side, so he could feel the deaths of those as they passed. He had even felt those on the _Liandra_. The old crews still haunting the halls. Unable to rest because of the dreadful deaths they had been forced to endure.

He slowly stood up, and looking around, saw that Firell was still standing there at the door, looking out. He walked up to her, making sure to be quiet. He didn't want to awake the others. She didn't glance at him as he stepped up but he noticed her frown.

"What is it?" he asked in a whisper.

"No one is moving," she said.

"Huh?" he asked, not sure what she meant.

"Out there in the hallways," she pointed out through the door, "No doctors. No patients. For the past hour. Not even security making checks or doctors making rounds."

Dulann did not wait but moved his hand forward and grabbing the doorknob opened it. Firell glanced over at him. She was both in shock at his defiance at orders but also interested in what he was doing. There was low light in the hallway, which was representative of the fact it was the night shift.

"We aren't supposed to go beyond here," she pointed out.

"Someone has just died in here," he said, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her with him. The door didn't close all the way. He didn't want to be stuck out here just in case they had to leave fast.

"It's a hospital," she rolled her eyes, allowing herself to speak a little louder as they headed down the halls, "People die here."

There were no doors right next to the visitor quarters but as they arrived near a small intersection, they spotted a door. A row of doors to rooms for patients. They moved up to one and Firell held back as Durlann opened the door. To reveal no one in the room.

She glanced over his shoulder, unable to resist her curiosity. "Looks empty." Up to the next door they opened. No one was in there. The next door. The next door. The next door. They opened every door in the hallway, only to find nothing at all. They were all empty.

They stood there, bewildered by this emptiness of a hospital of a world that was under a viral attack. Even on a planet where illness was rare, there were always busy bodies in hospitals. The empty hallways seemed to echo their very heartbeats.

"Where is everyone?" Dulann asked, looking around.

They were near stairs and they could hear feet walking up them. That was what they needed. They needed to talk to someone. Firell moved to the door and reached out her hand to open the door. The door burst open and out jumped a creature that looked like an Unknown, but had shed most of the scales. It let out a growl as it reached out, it bony fingers razor sharp. It slashed, tearing through Firell clothing and through her stomach. She collapsed in pain, crying. The beast raised up it's hands to strike, but Dulann was already attacking, his denn'bok extending and with a sickening crack, tore through it's rotten arm, breaking the bones. The beast was thrown against the wall, bellowing a throaty roar as it prepared to attack again. But it was killed with a single blow across the head, the exoskeleton exploding all over the walls.

Dulann dropped near Firell and lifted her gently from the floor. She eyes were glazing over, and her skin was becoming waxy, and the veins were darkening. The gums were beginning to bleed, along with her ears and edge of her eyes.

"Zo-zo-zombies," she gasped, blood filling her lungs, "They're turning into...zombies."

Dulann couldn't do anything for her, as roars filled the stairwell. He stood up, and turning, fled as fast as he could.

* * *

David was aroused when he heard a terrible sound. He looked around him, and saw Malcolm snapping to where he he had been laying, frowning. One by one the Rangers were awakening, whatever it was getting louder. He gently shook Sarah awake, who grunted in protest.

"What is that awful sound?" Ta'feek asked, rolling off the bench had had been "sleeping" on, although he wouldn't call it sleep.

The door burst open and Dulann jumped into the room, closing the door behind him and grabbing the nearest chair pushing it against the doors. He didn't talk to anyone as he did, rushing as fast as he could to wall up the door.

"What are you doing?" David asked, and a quick look around, "Where is Firell?"

"Zombies!" Dulann said, grabbing another chair and pushing it against the door.

"Zombies?" Mal'orki asked, his face showing he didn't understand the word.

David and Malcolm passed a glance. "Are you saying there are undead creatures out there?" he demanded.

"I'm not saying," Dulann said, "I'm telling you! They already have killed Firell."

The sounds were coming closer, this time, unmistakably roars from creatures. Sounds of massive booms from explosions could be heard, and David moved towards the door, looking through the windows. A lot of massive...things were charging down the hall, jumping into doors and bursting them open. Whatever they were, they were coming this way. And he didn't expect them to be friendly.

"I might not say zombies," David said, "but I'm not going to await them. Anla'Shok! Formation!"

The other rangers, incredulously as they were, formed a line. Each one grabbed their denn'boks in their hands. David pressed the button of his, the sound of metal extending always having excited him in many ways. Mal'orki was the only one he doubted might be good in this fight. pak'ma'ra weren't good fighters. But if they were zombies, who knew? Maybe the pak'ma'ra would eat them.

The door bulged as bodies slammed into it, the inner edges of the door pressing inwards by sheer volumes of whatever was beyond. He felt everyone tensing, a fear fueling their adrenaline. Roars could be heard and now they could see the hungry eyes of whatever was beyond. Teeth snapping from creatures that looked like the Unknown. Thick wads of saliva was falling on the windows. The doors creaked as they bulged. Six rangers against a horde of zombies.

The doors broke open and the zombies rushed forward, the first of them falling over the barricade of chairs and others being pushed aside by the volumes of zombies behind them. The rest ran forward, an animal lust for blood and flesh pushing them onwards. David raised his denn'bok and slashed downwards, his fighting stick cracking open the head of the the first zombie.

The zombies swarmed them, each Ranger slashed and whacking with their denn'boks. But for every zombie that fell, it seemed three more stepped up to take it's place. There was a flash of grenades, one after another, and David had no idea who was throwing grenades. He saw that they were veering away from Mal'orki, who was jumping on them, biting into their skulls.

He swept around, breaking the neck of a zombie that fell. The next one sprang at him, and he had barely enough time to hold up his denn'bok, pushing back on the clawed hands. The zombie pushed forward, reached with it's head, snapping as it tried to bite him. David felt himself getting pushed back, glancing around only briefly. He saw Kitaro falling under a swarm of zombies, screaming as blood began to gush as he was torn into.

He grunted and pushed back as hard as he could, but the natural strength of this creature was so much he couldn't push it back. His feet were sliding across the floor, but despite every move he tried, the zombie still roared and pushed forward. There was only a few feet left the the wall, and once there, he knew he was finished. He dare not let go of his denn'bok for fear of what would follow next.

He was almost completely back when suddenly a massive tentacled mouth fell over the zombies head and a crunching sound followed. The zombie screamed and roared, but he could see two hand grab the arms of the zombie and pull him off, eating away at it's head. The zombie turned as it struggled, before going limp. Mal'orki was behind it, dropping it.

"What?" he glanced around. The room was completely cleared of zombies. They were all dead, and except for Kitaro and Dulann, they were all still standing, albeit very bloodied.

"Zombies no eat pak'ma'ra," Mal'orki thumped his chest. "They no like pak'ma'ra. pak'ma'ra eat zombies though."

There was another scream and they could hear another wave of zombies approaching. Sarah looked at him, as did everyone else, waiting for his next move. They were trembling from the battle. It had been hard, and yet there was promise of even more stuff to happen to them.

"We got to go," David said, looking to the windows, "And that's our only means of escape."

* * *

Explosions rent through the city as the survivors of the city fought off the swarms of zombies that were intent on killing them. David and the group were running as fast as they could, the howls of zombies not far behind. Even the pak'ma'ra, not a physically fit creature, was outrunning them all, his peoples natural survival instincts in high gear. David grabbed his comlink and pushed on the call button.

"_Liandra!_" he shouted, "Someone better pick up."

"Tirk here," came the voice of their resident Drazi, "Why dead creatures attack?"

"Is_ Liandra_ under attack?" David asked.

"Not anymore," Tirk said, "All dead are dead again. Tirk stomp them."

"Get the ship ready to immediate lift off!" David said, Malcolm tossing a grenade behind him as he ran. Ten seconds later, there was an explosion.

The Drazi made a sound that must have been unsureity. "But Na'feel say, still need to do work," he said.

"We got a whole bunch of dead creatures following us!" David shouted angrily, in no mood for Tirk's slowness. "Or do you want them to eat you?"

"Oh..."

It felt like forever as they ran nonstop to the _Liandra_. They turned around the corner to the landing platform, a creature jumping from a roof and tackling Tafeek. Tafeek kicked at him and Malcolm went to rescue him. But the zombie bit into Tafeek shoulder and Tafeek screamed in pain.

"Leave him!" David shouted, Malcolm abandoned Tafeek much to his regret and they ran for the opened hatch. Tirk was outside near the opening, firing a PPG at zombies following the jumped through the open hatch and Sarah grabbed Tirk and pulled him inside, and the hatch closed with a thump. The crew ran to the bridge, the engines already fired up. But zombies were beginning to crawl over the hull as they were looking for a way to get in.

"Take us up, Malcolm!" he ordered and Malcolm jumped on the Helm station, starting to lift the ship. It shuddered as it struggled against the weight of so many extra bodies pressing down on it. Had they not unloaded the supplies earlier, they never would have made it. But as it was, soon they were passing through the atmosphere, Zombies being thrown off with the pull of gravitational and wind speed.

"Look at that!" Sarah exclaimed, and they looked at the viewscreen. The entire city was covered in a ocean of light, from cannons to explosions to small arms fire. The planet was writhing in it's death throes. David was extremely sad. They had come to save them, only to leave it destroyed.

He turned to Malcolm. "Let's leave and go home."

* * *

A week later, David sat underneath the zen garden that the Minbari had created for their Anla'Shok training facility. His first mission had been a disaster. The planet he had delivered supplies to was destroyed. He had lost almost half his crew. Meldoran Colony would be able to join no one now. He knew his career as Anla'Shok was over.

How would he make his way in the world? How would he support Sarah and their child? He had lived and breathed Anla'Shok for over three years now. He wasn't good at anything else.

"Do you find this comforting?" a voice asked, and he started. He had not heard Master Ta'Lon walk up to him.

"I did not notice you arrive Master," David said, standing up and bowing to him.

Ta'lon nodded, his Ka'tok pressed to his back. David had always wondered why Master Ta'Lon always carried it. There was no need for it here, at the heart of Anla'Shokdom.

"Moping around will gain you nothing," he said.

David sighed and rubbed his head. "I'm going to be expelled from the Anla'Shok," he said, "Not much else I can do."

"Yes," Ta'Lon said, "I've been told they didn't buy what happened on the planet. The dead do not walk again. That is what they said."

David looked away at the small banzai tree. It was bent and contorted as if someone had grabbed it and twisted it. He didn't know what to think anymore. He had done his best, only to lose so much in the end. Ta'Lon watched him carefully.

"There is no need to waste time moping though," he said, "The Anla'Shok are not the center of the universe, no matter what they think."

"I came here to escape the past, Master," David replied, "It was the center of my galaxy."

Ta'Lon shook his head. "But not always," he reminded him, "You have a family now. One of your own. One that will not be burdened by the legacy of the Sheridan family."

David started, looking at him. Ta'Lon was smiling knowingly. How had he known his true name? The Master could not possibly know that. But there he was, smiling.

"I know more than you ever will guess," Ta'Lon informed him. "But, you place the Council in a right fit."

David frowned. "Why?"

"Because as soon as news you were going to be expelled circulated," Ta'Lon said, "Malcolm Bridges, Sarah Cantrell, Na'feel, Tirk and Mal'orki also decided to resign together. You have real leadership. That is not to be wasted."

David was stunned. What was he to do though? They couldn't all resign. Could they?

"I appreciate that," he said at last, "But what can I do?"

Ta'Lon did not answer right away, but stared off in the distance. He was lost in some fields of his memory, where no one knew what was there. He had long been deemed dead, only to fool them all in the end.

"The Anla'Shok has been blackened by too many dark things," Ta'Lon finally said, "What is needed is a new birth. Go take your friends. And start a new order. A new Ranger order."

The human looked down at the ground, not sure what to make of that. He knew his father had turned them into brutes. And that was something they still hadn't quiet got rid of. But a new order? That was going to be different. But he looked up, and Ta'Lon was gone.


End file.
